Incubus Honeymoon

by August Li

  “What do you think?”

  I’d expected that. “Right. Well, we’re going to have to consider the possibility of mage involvement. Gonna have to look into the network, see if anybody knows anything. And to do that, we’re going to need help, I’m afraid.”

  I FELT like puking after what Inky said about needing help. With a couple of exceptions like Raf, Devereux, and Moirin, most of the people I’d depended on had let me down. I mean, I didn’t have to look much further than my fucking mother to see counting on someone to have my back was going to lead to disappointment. And I’d figured it out before I left elementary school.

  I was so wrapped up in my head that I wasn’t paying much attention to my surroundings, but in this neighborhood, where people driving was something of a rarity, it was impossible not to notice someone following us.

  “Yo, I think we got a tail,” I said to Inky. “Hang a left and go around the block.”

  Sure enough, the lights of what was probably a van or an older-model SUV stayed with us, following a couple car lengths behind. Shit. What if it was some of these jerk-off mages that had everybody pissing themselves? We couldn’t lead them back to my apartment—Mom might be a tweaker piece of shit, but I wasn’t going to leave her to the mercy of people with… Jesus. Fucking magical powers. Actually, that possibility got me thinking. If it was those assholes, they might know something about my sister. I don’t know if I was stupid or just pissed off, but I’d take my chances beating it out of them. In fact, I liked that idea.

  I looked around until I saw a twenty-four-hour coin laundry place. A couple kids hung around in the parking lot, probably selling dime bags. I pointed. “Pull in there.”

  Inky pulled the truck up beside the narrow slab of cement running underneath the place’s grimy windows. I got out and turned to the guys, who were probably only thirteen or fourteen. “Get lost.”

  One of them held up his hands. “Hey, man, what the hell? We ain’t bothering you.”

  Since I didn’t have time or energy to debate, I pulled the snub-nose and pointed it at the kid. “I said fuck off. I won’t ask again.”

  They took off running down the alley around the corner just as the car that had been tailing us—one of those long white vans contractors tend to use—pulled in behind the truck and shut off its headlights.

  I took a deep breath and got ready. I had no idea what I was in for if I had to fight a person who could use magic, but I still had my weapon, and in my experience, you put enough holes in a fucker and he’ll go down, pixie dust or not. Still, I didn’t know how many shots I’d get in, so I focused on letting my anger carry me to that sharp, clear place where everything but me seemed to move in slow motion. I slipped the .38 into my coat pocket. A lot of people have a misconception that letting someone see you have a gun will act as a deterrent or some bullshit—scare them away. But I’d learned that it was a hell of a lot better if they didn’t know until it was too late.

  I waited, the exhaust from our truck puffing around my legs, as the van’s door opened. I was almost disappointed when a big bastard with a bald head, a blond beard, a black jacket, and jackboots stepped out. Unless I was seriously mistaken, this jackass was no mage. “What the fuck do you want?” I asked. “Why are you following me?”

  “You’re Dante Mayfield.” The guy’s breath froze in clouds when he spoke.

  I spat on the ground. And waited. His hands were empty, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a weapon on him somewhere. And it didn’t mean there weren’t more guys in that van.

  “I believe you have something that belongs to us,” he continued. “A computer.”

  No way was he getting that machine. I was going to get it to somebody who could take it apart and find anything hidden on it that might help me, Raf, or those poor kids they’d kidnapped. Then I would turn it over to the FBI, and I was betting Moirin’s friend who did all the tech stuff for Raf could help with both. But this prick didn’t need to know any of that. “I got no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He took a step toward me. Only about fifteen feet separated us. From this distance I could put a bullet between his eyes in my sleep, and if he knew who I was, he probably knew that—which meant somebody in that van almost certainly had my head in their crosshairs. All I could do was stand there and hear what he had to say. “I think you do. We know who you are, and we know who you work for. We know it was you who broke into our cabin and stole the laptop. We would also like to know what happened to the man who disappeared.”

  I had to resist rolling my eyes. He wouldn’t believe it even if I told him. Not that I was going to. “You must be even stupider that you look, you Nazi asshole. I never heard of any cabin or any computer. Why the hell do you think I know anything about this?”

  He smiled as he closed the distance between us, only stopping when I could’ve reached out and wrapped my hands around his throat. God knows I fucking wanted to. “You smug little mongrel piece of shit. Your time’s done, boy, and you don’t even know it. All of your kind have worn out their welcome. You, your bean-shitting boss, those coons and chinks you sell guns to… your time has come. The power’s back where it belongs now, boy. The big kids are back at the table.”

  God, I wanted to pop this asshole if only so he’d stop talking. “Yeah, I heard your tired shit before. You and the rest of the stupid motherfuckers who think that idiot in power is going to do anything for you.”

  He laughed. “I’m not talking about politics, Jackie Chan. I’m talking about real power. You got no idea what we’ve got in our corner. Now I want that computer, and I want to know what happened to my man. You tell me and you get to live long enough to go back to Juan Valdez and tell him he might want to reconsider supplying us. We’re going to come out on top either way, and if you help us out, you might not end up in the ground. We need to keep somebody around to polish our boots.”

  “I’ll be sure and let him know, but don’t get your hopes up, Adolf. And since you’re obviously an idiot, I’ll say it again: I don’t know jack shit about any cabin, any computer, or any missing Stormtroopers. So, we done here?”

  “If that’s how you wanna play it, I guess we are.” He looked over his shoulder and nodded at the van.

  When the back panel slid open and the barrel of an assault rifle poked out, I’d been expecting it. Before its owner got a shot off, I dove for the asshole in front of me and caught him in the gut with my left shoulder. He hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from his lungs with a whoosh and a spray of spit. I flipped the heavy bastard on top of me. At this range, I didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting away without getting hit at least once, and this fucker was the only cover available.

  I could only pray the guy with the rifle cared enough about his friend not to go through him to get to me.

  Just as the gunfire started and then stopped, the guy on top of me shook off enough of his shock to get a beefy fist around my windpipe. When the gray started to pour in at the edges of my vision, I knew I didn’t have any choice—it was either get shot or lie here and get fucking strangled. I pulled the .38 from my pocket. I would’ve shot him in the head, but my arm was trapped between us. The best I could manage was to twist my wrist enough to shove the nose into his ribs. I was just about to black out when I managed to pull the trigger, the powder burning my hand and belly and the recoil knocking me in the gut.

  The guy heaved up a glob of blood that struck the side of my face, and then he flopped to his back and pressed both hands to the wound—not that it did much to stop the blood.

  I sucked in air just as the guy with the rifle lined up his next shot. I had about three seconds, and I used them to slide on my ass until I was up by the other guy’s head—anything to make his buddy think twice about hitting him to get at me. It would last maybe long enough for me to look over my shoulder and decide what to do next. When I did, I saw the truck’s passenger door open, just like I’d left it, along with the driver’s side door. At least Inky a
nd Blossom had the good sense to stay put—even if Blossom was supposed to be keeping me alive. I was no expert, but I didn’t have to be one to know his little bargains came with addendums and shit. Maybe this was one. Nobody was coming to help me. Whatever. I was on my own, and I was used to that.

  But I was still fucked. Even though it was only a few feet, I couldn’t run for the truck. My back would make too good a target. And even if I made it, this asshole could lay down enough fire before Inky started the engine to hit at least one of us. Shooting him in the kneecaps and then running was an option. I didn’t like the odds that he could squeeze off a few rounds before he went down, but I was running out of alternatives—with every step he took toward me. In no time, he’d be close enough to remove any danger of hitting his Nazi friend when he put a cap in my ass.

  I had to try. He was looking at my face and not my hand. If I could lift the .38 and squeeze one off before he saw what I was doing…. It was a long shot, but it was the only one I had.

  In that second, I decided it was no bigger risk to go for his head than his kneecaps. Whatever happened to me, a world with one less Nazi flesh peddler was a good thing. Might save at least one kid from something so disgraceful I couldn’t even imagine it.

  Just as I lifted my arm, something silver flashed behind the guy, followed by a hollow thud. He fell on his face, and Inky stood behind him, brandishing a bigass pipe wrench, probably from the tool kit in the truck. The way he looked from it to the asshole in the snow, it was like he didn’t understand the connection between the two.

  For a second I wondered if he’d done it because I’d wanted him to. But other than questioning how fast he could turn the key in the truck’s ignition, I hadn’t been thinking about him at all. I’d worry about it later. Didn’t much matter anyhow: asshole was unconscious, maybe dead, and his buddy’s wet grunts were getting less frequent.

  “We should get the hell out of here.” I took the hand Inky offered and got to my feet.

  “Let’s not be too hasty,” a voice said, followed by some very familiar clicks.

  Inky turned just as a group of men came around the back of the van—seemed the kids selling in front of this place had gone to get their older brothers after I ran them off. And their cousins and their second cousins. At least a dozen big guys had handguns trained on us.

  I squinted as they got closer, thinking I recognized one of them—a small-time dealer, sold mostly prescription shit his girlfriend boosted from the pharmacy where she worked. Ran a gang named after one of the streets nearby… I couldn’t remember which one. But I knew he bought off us—piecemeal, a few items here and there—and I searched my brain for his name. “Georgie?”

  “Dante? That you?” He lowered his weapon. Thank Christ. “We got word of somebody edging in on our territory. Now why would you do that, my man?”

  “I wouldn’t.” I tilted my head toward the Nazis by my feet. “I was just here for these jerk-offs—white supremacist gang trying to get a foothold in the city. Sick fucks who kidnap and whore out kids.”

  Georgie nodded as he put away his 9mm. “Heard something about that. This is them, huh?”

  “Yeah. Look, I didn’t want your people getting hurt….”

  “Say no more. You and me? We’re good. Me and these bastards?” He looked at the two men. “Not so much. Why don’t you let us take care of them? This is our street, our turf they’re on. It’s only right we be the ones to gives their asses a proper welcome.”

  I was more than happy to put my gun away and shake the hand Georgie offered. Hell, I could’ve kissed him, because all I wanted to do was get away from here and somewhere I could think of what I needed to do next. “They’re all yours, man. Yo, you wanna take your time with ’em? It won’t upset me or the boss.”

  He smiled. “I heard that.”

  I tapped Inky on the elbow. “Let’s go. I guess we’re going to have to pursue… other avenues.”

  “Fucking hell,” he said as he followed me to the truck.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I HATED everything about this. I’d hated that Inky and Blossom insisted we wait to talk to these mages they knew, and I hated that they wouldn’t let me go home. They were afraid someone could be watching my place, though they seemed a lot more concerned about Blossom’s safety than mine. They dragged me to an old lady’s house, and it looked like something out of an episode of Hoarders. At least Corazón was okay. She was convinced I was her cousin’s grandson, and she told me I was beautiful and kissed me on both cheeks. It was nice, even though she smelled of thrift-store clothes. Then she gave me a bowl of hearty stew full of spicy sausage and big chunks of chicken. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had cooked for me, and after a few prompts, Corazón even called me by my name. She said it was a good name, that it suited me.

  For a night and a day, she was more of a mother to me than my own had been for ten years.

  But now it was evening, and Inky wanted to go to some bar where mages hung out—and he said I couldn’t take my gun. Said they’d know, wouldn’t let me in with it. I hated that in my bones. I didn’t like being defenseless in a place I was picturing as a scene out of Harry Potter—a bunch of freaks and lunatics, probably.

  My phone hummed with another text from Raf, but I wasn’t ready to deal with him… not unless he had something I could use. If he did, he’d tell me and not just instruct me to call. I knew him at least that well, and I had all this other shit on my plate at the moment.

  “You’re not planning to wear that, are you?” Blossom sat on the couch next to Corazón, Charlene purring in his lap.

  I looked down at my dark jeans, boots, black sweatshirt, and the leather jacket I would never have been able to afford, but it had been a Christmas present from Raf. It wasn’t one of those biker-style jackets with the pointy collars and spikes either. Raf was too classy for that. It was simple and fitted, and I liked it because it was warm and buttery soft. “What am I supposed to wear? A cape and a pointy hat? No.”

  Blossom laughed. “No, of course not. But would it be so terrible to dress for the occasion? Play up your assets?”

  “I just want to get this done,” I told him. “I don’t give a fuck about anything but finding my sister.”

  “It’s a shame,” Corazón said. “You’re such a handsome young man. You should put on a suit and a nice tie. The young ladies would be sure to notice.” She winked.

  Blossom threw up his hands, startling the cat. “Exactly. And you might think twice about taking me along. Really. Which of us do you suppose knows how to have a good time, me or Inky?”

  “Just shut the fu—” Inky bit back the curse when Corazón scowled. “Just be quiet, you knob. I’ve told you a thousand times it’s too dangerous for you to go to Hex. If one of those mages gets ahold of you, it’s all over. You’ll be a slave.”

  Corazón patted Blossom’s knee. “Ramon is such a handsome boy, but you must not be jealous, Raphael. I have noticed the girls looking your way too. You’re just too quiet for your own good. Always thinking too much.”

  Blossom smirked as if he’d won some kind of victory, and I had to close my eyes. It was surreal, and I couldn’t wrap my head around this shit. I still felt like I was going to wake up from the worst fucking dream ever. Ever since I’d come back from Raf’s and found Ros gone, I’d felt like I was in a nightmare, so close to just losing it and screaming that it took all I had to hold myself together. This shit was tearing me up, and I wanted it over. “Can we please just go?”

  Inky nodded and patted me on the shoulder. He liked touching me, and it didn’t creep me out as much as it should have. I couldn’t say the same for the way I caught him looking at me sometimes. But what the hell. These two freaks were the only allies I had, and that was what I hated the most. They didn’t give a shit about me, didn’t give a shit about Ros except to get her to send Blossom home. But I had to trust them because I didn’t have anybody else. It sucked.

  It was a good walk to wherever In
ky was taking me, and it was fucking cold, but at least it had stopped snowing. I couldn’t complain—it’d been my idea to leave the truck in an alley so it wouldn’t end up associated with us. It was one of the things Raf had taught me to be careful about. We made it a few blocks before Inky started talking.

  “So, Dante?”

  “What?”

  “Your name. Corazón likes it.”

  “So?”

  Apparently he didn’t get the hint from my tone. “It’s unique. A family name?”

  “No.”

  “Your mother chose it, then?”

  I sighed out a white cloud and shoved my hands in my pockets. Jesus, he wasn’t going to let up. It would be easier just to give in, even if I couldn’t imagine what the hell he was getting out of this. “Yeah, she did. She loves—loved—books and plays. Stories and characters. For a while, when I was a kid, she wanted to be an actress. We lived in New York City, and she was always going to auditions, doing stuff with little theater groups, all kinds of stupid fucking projects that never amounted to anything.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. Maybe she sucked at it. I don’t know. But she was too softhearted. It gutted her when she got rejected, sent her into a bad mood for days. For a while she got back up, tried again, but I guess you can only get smacked down so many times before you realize you’re better off staying on the ground.” I shook my head, remembering. “She loved it, though. Decided that if she couldn’t act, she was going to write plays. We moved here because it was cheaper than New York, and she tried. At our first apartment, she had an old computer, one of those boxy things, and for a while she’d get up and sit at it for at least a few hours before lunch.”